


It was a Challenge!!

by Kalin



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Anal Sex, Consensual, Daddy Kink, Dirty Talk, Fetish, M/M, Panties, Panty Kink, Praise Kink, Smut, sterek
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-04
Updated: 2015-11-04
Packaged: 2018-04-29 20:52:47
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,444
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5142101
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kalin/pseuds/Kalin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Derek has a kink. Stiles finds out about said kink. Let's just say faerie godmothers kinda exist. SMUT!</p>
            </blockquote>





	It was a Challenge!!

**Author's Note:**

> Enjoy! Comment! :) Feedback is awesome!!!

Derek studied the scrap intensely. It could only be described as cute lingerie, and Derek felt a bit of shame stir as he picked up the skimpy silken light teal piece of clothing. Although he would never admit it to anyone, it it was something that he actually had been interested in since high school, before he let a psychopathic Argent into his family’s lives. Derek winced. He had had quite a few close calls with people finding out his dirty little secret. Luckily, so far in his life, his… fetish has been a safe secret, even from that damned woman the burned his family. Derek sighed.

Derek folded the panties and hid them in the bottom of his sock drawer. Sure, it was a cliché hiding place, but Isaac, Erica, and Boyd knew better than to go into his room. Unfortunately, Derek did have to go to work, so he couldn’t indulge in any of the fantasies running wild in his imagination at the moment. Walking into the main room, Derek was greeted by the faint smell of cinnamon and Old Spice. Derek briefly savored the smell, quickly realizing the scent that had become so familiar.

“Hey, Sour-wolf,” Stiles chirped, his whiskey-hazel eyes glistening from the effect of too much caffeine. Stiles’s dark brown hair was gelled up as it usually was, since his hair had grown. There was a slight chill in the air with it being autumn, so it seemed that Stiles had opted for his favorite red hoodie instead of his signature plaid. Derek stared at the long pale expanse of Stiles’ throat dotted with moles. More fantasies. Derek felt his wolf nipping at the edges of his psyche, thrilled with claiming Stiles. Derek did what he did best; he repressed.

“Stiles, what the hell are you doing?” Derek growled, letting a bit of his alpha voice drip into his tone. Derek felt a small amount of smug satisfaction at Stiles cowered at the tone.

Stiles rolled his eyes, slinging his backpack to a corner of the room, quickly playing off his reaction. “Calm down, Derek. I just need to research some stuff in your library. Is that okay with you?” The question was obviously rhetorical and dripping with sarcasm. Derek rolled his eyes at the younger man. Stiles’s tongue darted between his dry lips, still keeping steady eye contact with Derek. Derek’s wolf saw it as a challenge, but Derek swallowed feeling a spark of pleasure travelling down his spine at the prospect of having Stiles in the newest addition to his “sock” drawer. Again, Derek repressed his fantasies and thoughts.

“Fine. I have to go to work, but stay out of my room, Stiles,” Derek grumbled, grabbing his laptop bag and heading to Beacon Hills’ library where he worked on freelance editing. He left without looking back at Stiles, trying not to imagine the slender man in what was hidden beneath layers of socks and boxer briefs.

…

Derek had left about four hours prior before Stiles had decided to finally take a break from researching a curse that may or may not be affecting Beacon Hills High cheerleaders. “Gahhh!” Stiles stretched, feeling his spine pop back into place from being in such an awkward sitting position for so long.

“Break time,” Stiles announced to the empty loft. He got up from the couch, a few more joints popping back into place, and made his way to the kitchen. Unsurprisingly, there weren’t any leftovers and Stiles did not feel like making an entire meal just for himself. But, Stiles was smart, and so was Derek. So, Stiles went to Derek’s room, and opened the closet. Stiles grinned triumphantly at the reasonably sized mini fridge in the corner of Derek’s walk-in closet. He had discovered Derek’s dirty little secret that he kept from his betas after one encounter with a cursed faerie, and ended up getting locked in Derek’s apartment for a couple of days until Lydia could break the spell. Stiles triumph was short lived, however. Derek actually had a lock on the fridge. Paranoid much? Remembering that Derek did indeed live with three teenaged werewolves with another pack popping in at his house consistently enough seemed to warrant having to hide and lock away food in your closet. It also helps if you ever get a spell cast right outside the doors and window by cursed faeries and can’t get out. Just sayin’.

Luckily, Stiles knew where Derek kept his miscellaneous keys. He had figured it out after a witch had attacked them in the loft. Seriously, they needed to invest in security of both magical and technological means. But, anyways, Stiles went to Derek’s dresser and opened it, memorizing how everything was placed, so as Derek wouldn’t know he had been there. Even though Derek could probably smell him… oh well.

“Oh shit,” Stiles whispered, eyes growing huge at the trove of assorted sexual items and a certain pair of lightly colored teal panties. Stiles picked up the panties. They were kind of stiff, so no one had worn them before. Stiles frowned slightly. Why would Derek have panties? A fetish?

Stiles’s cock twitched in interest at that idea. Stiles imagined himself naked, save for the panties, cuffed to Derek’s bed, and being ravaged by Derek. Stiles licked his lips and smiled; a brilliant idea forming in his head. Stiles pocketed the panties, and grabbed one of the old books in there so he could have an excuse as to why he was in Derek’s room. He grinned mischievously. He couldn’t wait to put his master plan in play.

…

Derek trudged up the stairway to the loft, feeling braindead. Some writers just don’t know how to punctuate or construct a sentence. He could feel a headache brewing behind his eyelids. Great.

Outside the door to the loft, Derek was once again greeted by cinnamon and Old Spice and… something else. It wasn’t alarming to Derek’s wolf, in fact he could feel it gnawing inside his mind. His instincts wanted to take control, and Derek couldn’t understand why. Derek shrugged slightly to himself, sliding the door to the loft open.

Sure enough, Stiles was still on the couch, a flurry of papers and books surrounding the man and his laptop. Stiles’s hair was a mess, looking like he had run his fingers through it a thousand times, and his lips were wrapped obscenely around the cap of an extra-large highlighter, making Derek growl softly.

“Hey. What’s wrong?” Derek didn’t answer, but went straight to his room to change into sweats and to put his laptop bag down. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Stiles smirk mischievously, but voted to ignore it. Derek bared his teeth smelling Stiles in the room. Nothing seemed to be out of place, but Stiles’s scent was definitely in the room. Derek changed into his favorite gray sweatpants, and went out to confront Stiles.

“Stiles, what the fuck? I told you to stay out of my room,” Derek roared. Stiles, without even looking away from his laptop, shoved a book in Derek’s direction.

“Thanks, grumpy-ass.” Derek snarled, fingers twisting in the red hoodie, bringing Stiles to his feet.

“Leave now.” Red eyes.

Stiles quickly scooped up his things, absentmindedly lecturing Derek on manners to his guests. Derek just crossed his arms and grumbled snide little comments about having rude guests.

On his way out, Stiles bent over to retrieve his backpack, giving Derek a damned good view of something pastel that he was all too familiar with. Derek’s mouth gaped and his eyes widened in horror. All of his air vacated his lungs. Stiles had found more than that book.

Seemingly oblivious to Derek’s reaction, Stiles bounced out of the loft, talking aloud about what to make for dinner.

Derek regained control of his breathing, smelling the tantalizing smell of Stiles. His wolf wasn’t pleased that Derek had let Stiles leave, and neither was little Derek. But, now, Derek could name the mysterious scent.

…

Unfortunately, Derek never got Stiles alone to talk to him about why he had worn the panties from his dresser drawer. There was always someone from the pack around. However, without fail, every time Derek saw Stiles, Stiles would hint at wearing panties. And, not necessarily the ones he had worn out of the loft that one fateful evening. Derek had fantasized about Stiles every night since. Then, the faeries happened. Again.

Stiles was struck by a fairy spell. Deaton and Peter found a way to stop them and keep them from ever coming back to Beacon Hills by setting up a barrier. Naturally, it was all hands on deck, but with an unknown spell on Stiles, he was left at the loft with Derek to take care of him.

The only real issue was that Stiles kept moving. It was like he had ten times the amount of caffeine that he usually had. Stiles was writhing, complaining about how hot it was, and already stripping his shirt off. Derek ended up cuffing Stiles to the bed just to keep him still.

 “Jesus Christ, Stiles. You need to rest. It’s not the end of the world. It’s just a little sweat,” Derek urged. Stiles looked at him, blinking a couple times blearily, not really understanding Derek. All Stiles could comprehend is _need, need more, need him_.

Stiles was shaking with the need to move. Derek looked at him sympathetically, oblivious to Stiles real dilemma. A dark look passed over Stiles’s usually handsome features briefly. Stiles began to grind his ass into the bed. It was only then that Derek noticed Stiles’s erection pressing into the front of his jeans. Derek smelled the arousal in the air, but he couldn’t tell if it was his own or Stiles’s. A whine escaped from Stiles as he thrust his hips; the whole time keeping eye contact with Derek.

Derek licked his lips hungrily, feeling his own erection grow at the sight before him. Imagining Stiles, wrecked, lips swollen from being bitten to hold in moans as his skinny jeans slowly rode down his lean, muscular body. His arms are above his head, hands cuffed to the intricate design of the metal bedframe. And, God, does Derek want Stiles.

“Derek,” Stiles spoke with a hoarse whisper, moaning when Derek ran his fingers over his abs slowly moving up to his chest.

“You sure?”

“Derek, please.” Stiles begged so beautifully.

“Please what, Stiles? Tell me what you want.” Derek straddled Stiles’s thighs, their growing erections inches apart. Derek indulged himself, letting his hand roam Stiles’s torso for a few seconds before lightly toying with his nipples. “Well?”

Stiles took a deep breath. “Please, please, please fuck me, Derek. I want to feel your cock pounding me. I want you to tease me. I want you to make me cum. Please, Derek!” Stiles voice grew more and more desperate as he begged.

“Then… be still,” Derek growled. Primal. Instictive. He felt his wolf merge, and his eyes bleed red. Stiles stiffened in an attempt to be still and obey. Derek continued letting his hands roam Stiles body, occasionally massaging his muscles or pinching his nipples. Stiles occasionally whining and thrusting to get friction.

Derek kissed Stiles. He wanted to memorize every centimeter of the younger man, so that even if this wouldn’t last, Derek could revisit the memories for years to come. Stiles gasped as Derek ran his hands up his sides, allowing Derek to slide his tongue in and explore Stiles with primal need. Stiles moaned into the kiss, arching his back just to feel more of Derek.

Derek broke the kiss, earning a whine of loss from Stiles. Derek nipped at his throat. Derek started to strip, and soon enough was standing completely nude, his erection notably large.

“Derek, please, please, please fuck me.” Stiles was practically sobbing.

Derek unbuttoned Stiles’s skinny jeans, pulling them off rather easily. He stopped when he saw the teal panties clinging to Stiles’s slender hips. Precum had already stained the panties. Derek leaned down and laid an open mouth kiss to the damp spot on his stolen underwear. Stiles moaned softly. Derek gently sucked on Stiles’s cock, pressing a thumb at Stiles’s entrance.

“So pretty with your panties, Stiles. Such a pretty little slut wearing these, hoping that someone will notice you, huh?” Derek prowled up the bed, sticking two fingers in Stiles’s mouth.

“Suck, Babyboy.” Stiles happily obliged, working his tongue around Derek’s fingers as Derek massaged his balls through the panties. “Enough.”

Derek removed the panties finally, allowing Stiles’s cock to be free. Derek flipped Stiles onto his knees, ass presented to Derek. Carefully, Derek worked one of his fingers into Stiles. Stiles’s body greedily accepted the digit, and soon enough Derek was finger fucking Stiles with three fingers. Stiles was nearly constantly moaning.

“What a good boy, taking my fingers like this,” Derek kissed the back of Stiles’s neck, “Presenting your ass for me to fuck. You won’t be able to walk after I’m through with you, Babyboy. Are you ready for that?”

When Stiles didn’t answer, Derek stopped completely, pulling out his fingers.

“Yes, yes, I’m ready. Derek, I’m so ready. Please,” Stiles babbled, feeling empty without Derek’s fingers.

“Good.” Stiles felt something nudge his entrance. Stiles moaned with satisfaction. Finally.

At first, Derek only slid the head of his cock in, letting Stiles adjust to the difference in size. Once Stiles started begging again, Derek began to slowly fuck Stiles. Stiles gasps soon turned into moans, and Derek allowed a little bit of his wolf to let loose. Derek began to pound Stiles, and Stiles was moaning like his life depended on it. Derek changed the angle of his thrusts a little so that he could nail Stiles’s prostate every time. Stiles screaming in pure pleasure. Neither man could believe what was happening, but neither man cared enough to stop the living fantasy.

Stiles came without his cock ever being touched. Derek felt Stiles tighten around his cock, and came with a throaty growl, thrusting a few times before pulling out and collapsing on top of Stiles. After he caught his breath, Derek flipped Stiles back onto his back, undoing the handcuffs. Stiles snuggled into Derek’s side, mesmerized by the smell of Derek, sweat, and sex.

“So?”

“We didn’t use protection,” Stiles quipped.

“No, we did not.”

“We should do that again, but, y’know, with protection.” An affirmative grunt.

“That spell wore off hours ago, didn’t it?”

“Yeah, uh, I just wanted you to handcuff me actually…”

A chuckle. “All you had to do was ask, Babyboy.”

“Yes, Daddy.”

 

 

“Fuck.”


End file.
